


Homemade Banana Bread

by gretaamyk



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26689576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gretaamyk/pseuds/gretaamyk
Summary: Request: Y/N works in a the coffee shop Spence always goes into on his break at work, and every Friday Y/N gives him one of the muffins she made the day before. One day, Morgan and Hotch go with Spence and tease him about how much Spence gives Y/N googly eyes, as they are sitting down on their break, and suggest he asks her out, as she knows his name and he knows hers… (continued)
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 96





	Homemade Banana Bread

I never used to drive. It just made me anxious and uncomfortable so I never did it if I had another option. But the bus route never passed by that little cafe on sixth, and something within me drew me there like the sun’s grip on all the planets in its system. Maybe it was the smell of baking bread, or the library that sat directly next to it, but I saw it once while on a case and I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since.

Then I met her. She had the brightest smile that I had ever seen on a person, and she always smelled so good—like baked goods and vanilla. She was nice and she didn’t make me feel weird even though I knew that I was. I started driving to work every day after that. I always buy a coffee and she gives me a free muffin that she made the day before. 

The car was the first thing the team noticed, the muffin was the next.

I ignored them whenever they asked questions, referring to the sudden use of my complimentary parking space, or my sudden love for baked goods. But they were profilers after all. And even as one myself, I wasn’t the best liar when it came to my personal life. I could deceive and manipulate unsubs into doing whatever, but if they asked about me, I was an open book…involuntarily.

I set myself up at my desk and organized the paperwork that waited for me. Immediately after I sat down, Derek rode his spinny chair to sit right beside me. Without even looking I could tell there was a shit eating grin on his face. I sighed and brought myself looked up and see that I was right, sporting the best bored face I could manage. 

“What’s her name?” He asked.

I laughed, subconsciously tapping the end of my pen against the table. “You think that there’s a she now? Because I started driving myself to work?”

“No,” He leaned back into his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “I think there’s a she ‘cause there’s a heart written on that muffin of yours.”

Wait what?

My eyes snapped to the wrapped up muffin, and sure enough there was a heart sharpied neatly onto its saran wrap. It was written bubbly, like her calligraphy lettering on the chalkboard menu of the cafe. I couldn’t stop the blush that came into my cheeks and the smile that followed quickly behind it. She’d never drawn a heart before. I felt like a little kid getting a valentine from their crush— though, I never got those as a little kid anyway.

“I’m right.” He broke me out of the place I trapped myself in my mind.

“Huh?” I asked, looking back up and squinting my eyes at him with confusion.

“The heart could have meant anything, but your reaction told me everything I need to know.” He smirked and leaned forward with his elbows on my desk. “Pretty boy’s found a pretty lady of his own!” 

Goddamn profilers. 

I looked around at the very crowded bullpen, thankful that Derek spoke low enough for only me to hear. I exhaled a sigh, relieved that he had the decency to be quiet about it, but annoyed that he decided to mention it at all.

“So what?” I responded after what seemed like an eternity of him staring at me with a stupid arrogant smirk that I wanted nothing more than to smack off. Unfortunately this was Derek and if I hit him he would hit me ten times harder and disintegrate my skeleton.

“So,” He wiggled an expressive eyebrow, “during our lunch break, we’re going.” He rolled away to his own desk before I could argue. Then with his back to me, he shouted back one last detail, “You’re driving!”

At this point I knew better than to argue with Derek. But then our lunch break came faster than I could have ever prepared myself for, and I was regretting not arguing against this plan with every fiber in my body. But it was too late and soon enough I was driving to her cafe with Derek riding passenger. The drive felt clinical, almost as if I was taking my drivers test and he was the instructor watching and dissecting my every move. Which he was doing, but unlike the drivers test no matter what conclusion he came to, I wouldn’t win. In my peripheral vision I could see him smirking, and my immediate reaction was to roll my eyes hard enough until I saw my brain, and hopefully find a way out of this back there. Unfortunately, I couldn’t think fast enough. 

“Here we are.” I said diffidently, pulling into a parking space in front of the cafe. We got out of the car and started to head in, but Derek stopped in front of the chalkboard menu up front. He pointed at the heart written after “Mocha Frappe”.

“I’d recognize that heart anywhere,” He laughed before opening the door and allowing me to go in ahead of him. I glared at him as I passed, hastily sitting down at my regular table. He followed.

There were a couple of other people working and without realizing it- I was looking for her and was visibly disappointed when she wasn’t there. But then she came out of the bathroom and I immediately smiled. 

Her eyes met mine and she nearly did a double take. Her face melted into a soft smile and she waved shyly. I waved back. 

Derek cleared his throat, silently commanding my attention which I quickly succumbed to.

“I was gonna ask which one is her, but those goo-goo eyes you got going on answered my question.” He smirked, lounging back into his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

I blushed despite every effort I made not to. 

“She’s pretty.” He said, and I couldn’t stop myself from responding truthfully. She deserved my honesty, especially in a conversation talking about how incredible she was. 

“She really is.” My voice was hushed because I was sure she was in hearing distance. She was busy clearing off a table and having a conversation with another common patron, but I was still nervous that she was paying attention to me in the same way that I always did for her.

“Have you tried telling her that?”

I laughed like it was a joke. “No! I mean, look at her…she’s beautiful… and I’m just… me.”

Derek groaned and leaned forward, “No, no, no, I don’t wanna hear none of that. Give yourself some credit, man, what’s not to like?” 

He paused like he was awaiting a response, but I just stayed silent and looked at him blankly. I genuinely could not come up with an answer. He sighed.

“Just go up to her, tell her she’s bangin’, and that you want to take her out sometime. What’s the worst that could happen?”

I scoffed, “She could hear me.”

Derek rolled his eyes.

“Fine. Go get me a cold brew and a donut, would you?”

I sighed and stood up, and as I took my first step away from the table, Derek stuck his foot out in front of me, causing me to trip and stumble directly into Y/N.

“Shit, Y/n, I’m so-”

“Hey Spence!” She smiled brightly, putting her hand on my arm for just a brief second before pulling away. I didn’t usually like physical touch, but something about her was different and I seemed to miss the feeling of her as soon as she was gone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you!”

Of course she was blaming herself for something that was entirely my fault (Or Morgan’s, but she wouldn’t have been able to know that). I guess that’s a given if you work in retail, the whole “the customer is always right” thing. Though of course I had hoped that I was a little more than a customer.

“Oh, no, don’t apologize, that was entirely my fault.”

“Okay, I won’t.” She smiled, “What are you doing here again? Not that I could ever grow tired of seeing your face. I swear half the money in my register is yours.”

“Not with all those free muffins you give me.” I joked nervously, but she didn’t seem to notice my nerves. Or maybe she just had enough decency to ignore it and laugh. “I’m taking my friend out for our lunch break.” I blushed despite nothing happening but a few moments of staggered eye contact. 

“And you chose our little place? That’s super sweet, Spence!” I smiled sheepishly. She narrowed her eyes and pointed an accusatory finger, “Are you just trying to get more free stuff?”

“No! Not at all!” I defended with my voice involuntarily raising an octave like I was that little kid again. I tripped over my words but somehow I managed to get the sentence out. “Not that I don’t l-love your muffins… But I’d much rather see… you again.”

I heard a sigh of disapproval from Derek, I nearly forgot that he was listening but now I wouldn’t be able to think about anything else. My face burned a fiery red but Y/n didn’t seem to notice.

“That was smooth.” She laughed, “Come on, I’ll give you another.” She waved me to follow her to the counter. I was thankful to be pulled away from Derek’s hearing range. 

She disappeared into the back room before reappearing with a tray of still warm muffins. 

“These are different from this morning.” I observed, she nodded.

“Yeah, these are Homemade Banana bread muffins. They have chocolate chips and everything.”

“They smell great. Does anyone else get these for free?”

“No, but I own the place so I make the rules,” She laughed happily before picking a muffin off the tray and grabbing paper from somewhere under the counter. “I can throw in another free one, though. For your plus one over there.”

She waved at Derek who giddily waved back. I smiled and nodded, only acknowledging Derek’s presence because she was. She wrapped up my muffin in paper instead of plastic and then grabbed another to do the same. Then she pulled out a sharpie.

“Did you like my drawing earlier today?” She drew another heart on one of them, and I noticed that she left the other one alone entirely. Interesting.

“I did!” I said, eagerness spilling out from my words with only slight embarrassment in its wake. Now that Derek couldn’t hear, and effectively my parent chaperone removed from the equation, I felt more confident. I mean, I knew Y/n, we were even friends at this point. I should be able to talk to my friend like anyone else, even if conversations with her were quite possibly the most nerve wracking thing I ever experienced- and that’s coming from an FBI agent.

“Want anything else?” She asked softly, I tilted my head like a confused puppy. She pulled her smiling lips in between her teeth, and something that I was surprised to identify as warm blush grew apparent in her cheeks. “I mean I’m no artist but I can draw like… a duck or something.”

I chewed on the inside of my lip, finding myself speaking before I had the chance to back out.

“W-What about… What about your phone number?” I asked slowly without thinking, already starting to retreat back into my seat like distance would cushion the blow. 

But instead, she lit up like my words had pulled the light switch.

“Dr. Reid, You’re getting good at this!” She spoke, grabbing my hand and quickly scrawling her number out on my blushing skin. Though I also noticed that she was blushing quite profusely as well, and I couldn’t help but feel a strange and unfamiliar sense of pride. Maybe all this time I’ve been spending with Derek is paying off after all— soon enough I’ll be collecting baby girls out the wazoo and speaking exclusively in emoticons. But in reality this was the first phone number I’ve gotten in years, and if all goes well I wouldn’t be needing anymore. She was more than enough.

She finished and put the cap back on, so I pulled my hand back and examined it like I was checking if it was fake, or more, making sure it was real.

“Can I pay for the muffins?” I asked, shoving my newly inked hand in my pocket. I suddenly felt weird about accepting the favor of complementary goods, so I thought that at least offering to pay would help.

“I’ve never let you pay for them before, what makes you think I’d start now?” She asked. I blushed and smiled sheepishly as I picked up my snacks.

“Fair point,” I admitted, sitting back down at our table, “Thanks.”

“Bye Spence,” She spoke as she got back to work, ringing up the next customer that had been waiting behind me in line. He had heard my conversation with her. I internally hoped he thought I was cool for getting her number. 

“Call me!”

Derek’s eyes snapped back to mine, wide like he had seen a ghost. “Did she just say ‘call me’?”

“Yes she did.” I said as nonchalantly as possible, lifting up the back of my hand and showing him the number on it. He smiled proudly and nodded.

“Now, that’s called game.” He praised patting me on the shoulder before picking up his own muffin, clearly distracted enough not to bother asking why I didn’t get him any of the things he asked for. He took a bite of the muffin and immediately moaned in a way that you probably shouldn’t moan in public or about food. But I understood. Y/n’s food was always great. “Which of my moves did you use on her?”

“As shocking as it may sound, none.” I shook my head and I wrapped my own muffin, careful to preserve the paper doodle like it would wilt away if I wasn’t careful. “I was just myself.”

“Really? Are you sure that number’s not for me?” He laughed.

“Very funny.” I laughed sarcastically. “Let’s go.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, looking in between Y/n and I and then at the watch he wore on his wrist, “We have more time-”

“I think I’m okay.” I said flatly.

The drive back to the office was quiet but contemplative as I thought over and over again what I should say to her on the phone. This was uncharted territory for me, and despite the help at my disposal, part of me fingered that I needed to do this myself. Derek’s methods worked for him, and I think with some fine tuning, mine could work for me too. With lots and lots of tuning.

But arguably, the hardest part was over. All I needed to do was call her and ask her out… really… easy.

We walked back into the office, still deep in thought. But then we were immediately escorted into the conference room, to which we dumbly complied like sheep, and I snapped back into reality and grabbed my case file from Penelope.

“Where’ve you been?” JJ asked in between sips of coffee.

“We went out.” I said plainly, opening up the case file and scanning the information inside. Derek bit back any more explanation, to which I was grateful but also knowing that it probably wouldn’t last long. He would tell anyone with ears as soon as I left the room.

“You guys don’t go out.’” Penelope added as she turned on her equipment for the briefing.

“That’s not true, we go out all the time. Right Derek?” I asked, Emily interrupted before Derek had the chance to respond.

“Reid, you don’t like going out period.” She started, to which I rolled my eyes and sat down in an attempt to drop it and move the conversation to blood and murder.

Hotch walked in and I exhaled a breath of relief. Hotch was all business, and the team was usually more well behaved with him here. Despite the fact that we were all legally adults, Hotch was definitely our parental supervision.

But then he stopped and looked at me, before popping his eyebrows and sitting down in one of the chairs surrounding the round table.

“What’s their name?” He asked, forcing me to groan and slide down in my chair like an exasperated toddler.

“There a ’them’ now, because I went out during my lunch break?” I asked, covering my face with my hands in a counterproductive effort to hide my guilt and ever growing embarrassment.

“There’s a ‘them’ because you went out to lunch with Derek and now he refuses to talk,” Emily laughed, gesturing to Derek, who was silent and covering his smirking mouth. Way to be discreet, Thanks.

“We know you, Reid.” She finished and I rolled my eyes because I knew that they did. They knew me better than I did sometimes. But out of the few secrets that I could keep, I had hoped Y/n could be one of them.

“There’s that too, but he had a phone number on his hand.” Hotch added.

I swore under my breath and hid my hand under the table.

Goddamn profilers.


End file.
